


Moonlight Serenade

by Oh_Martha_My_Dear



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Could be seen as platonic, Fluff, Foxhole cuddles, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, but could also be seen as romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Martha_My_Dear/pseuds/Oh_Martha_My_Dear
Summary: Snafu is very tired an Eugene being the angel he is takes his position.





	Moonlight Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my very first fic ever posted anywhere so I hope it’s not completely horrible. I hope you enjoy and comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!

I turn over once again, trying to make the cold ground below me at least a little more comfortable. 

Another explosion goes off above me, causing a beam of light to penetrate my eyelids, making me squint even though my eyes are already closed. Once the sounds of the mortar bomb echos out into a quiet whisper, I hear the sniffs and coughs from the others in their foxholes trying, much like I am, to get some sleep on this god forsaken island. 

It’s rained non stop for the last three days, the ponchos don’t do much anymore as if your sleeve gets the slightest bit wet it’s freezes your entire arm. The thin plastic only provides a half ass attempt to keep the rain from touching you.

Finally I give up, turning onto my back and staring up at the sky. I used to be able to see stars in the first few days that I was here, now the sky is hidden behind a thick wall of smoke, even making the moon hard to find. 

It’s nights like these where I wish I was home, in my bed, under my sheets, ready to wake up the next morning to warm breakfast. Maybe my father would ruffle my hair and tell me to get dressed so he can take me hunting. My mother would sigh and look just the slightest bit annoyed that we were engaging in such activities and tell us to be back before lunch. Mother never approved of deer hunting, she thought it was barbaric and pointless seeing as we could drive half a mile and pick up the same meat already prepared. We would hunt for a couple of hours and return at the promised time, welcomed with prepared food. Then later I would venture out into the back yard to relax in the field of wildflowers that I would play in as a child and bask in the summer sun. 

But instead I’m here, covered head to toe in mud, trying to get my brain to shut off when the threat of japs being just around the corner is a lingering thought that never fails to creep its way back into my mind. 

The ruffling of clothes makes me snap my head to the side quickly, reaching for my gun in preparation for an attack. But there’s no threat, no man with a gun, well, no man with a gun wanting to kill me anyway. 

In place of a potential ambush is Snafu, leaning back against the wall of the foxhole, his gun sitting against his shoulder.

His eyes look vacant, tired, unfocused. He hasn’t slept in days, no one has, but it hasn’t seemed to have taken much of a toll on him. No matter how many minutes of shut eye he got the previous night he always had a devilish smirk on his face and a witty comment at the ready. 

Now he looks more exhausted than ever. I guess it’s all caught up with him. 

He stares out into the open field, trying to look as focused as he possibly can but he can’t even keep his eyelids from drooping every now and then, almost closing completely before he notices and jumps back into consciousness before starting the whole process again.

“Snaf?” I whisper. 

He just continues to stare, not acknowledging my existence in the slightest.

“Snafu?” I say again just slightly louder, but still quiet enough to be considered a whisper.

He moves his head in my direction and blinks lazily, eyes rolling back and forth, looking for something but I’m not sure what, hell I don’t even think he knows either.

“You need me to take over?” I ask.

He is silent for a moment, eyes closing for a second in thought. I thought he had finally fallen asleep before his eyes opened again and he sat up a little straighter. 

“Naw, m’ good Sledge” he says quietly and slurred.

He begins the same process of his head and eyelids drooping before jerking back awake. 

Finally his eyes give in to the weight that is forcing them closed and slumps forward, hand still clutched tightly around his gun. I sigh, and sit up, picking up my hat from the ground where it was serving as a pillow and placing it atop my head. 

Slowly, as to not make any sound, I crawl towards where he lays asleep and sit down beside him. Close enough that our arms brush.

He doesn’t wake.

His breathing becomes even and a single curl that hangs in front of his nose is pushed forward with every exhale. 

With my gun beside me I take his position, watching for any sign of movement in the vast forest that lies only a few yards away.

I look to the side briefly and see that his gun has slid sideways to where the muzzle is aimed in my general direction. Having the barrel of a gun aimed at your is never pleasant, doesn’t matter who you are. 

Hesitantly, I reach over and try to replace his hand that is gripped tight to the the barrel with mine. 

Once my hand grazes his he stirs, sitting up slightly with his eyes barely open. 

“M’ awake” he slurs, the end of the sentence fading out into a inaudible whisper. Then, soon enough he closes his eyes again, falling back asleep. 

Thankfully his gun has been moved to aim in the other direction. This time however, his head rolls to rest on my shoulder. His head is heavy, like he’s let go of all of his weight, exhaustion taking over completely. 

I glance down every now and then, my eyes passing over his face, taking in every detail of his face that I can before turning my attention back to the forest. 

He looks peaceful, tranquil even. That is a rare sight these days, hardly anyone is relaxed, everyone looks like they’ve been through hell or at least the closest thing we can get to it here on Earth. 

He shifts slightly, making me freeze, not wanting to wake him. He settles back down though, hand leaving his gun to rest lightly on my forearm.

“I’m here Snaf” I say quietly, directing my attention back out to the forest.

“I’m here”


End file.
